


Tupain: The Child of Destiny

by EuphoriaWriter



Category: Music - Fandom, Tupac Shakur (Musician)
Genre: Clones, F/M, Family, Honor, Joke Fic, Not real, OC, Rap, Skateboarding, Space Time, Taylor Swift is evil, Tupain - Freeform, Wholesome, joke, this is not serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 02:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoriaWriter/pseuds/EuphoriaWriter
Summary: Taylor Swift is cloning rappers to take over the rap and hip hop world- a narrative about how white people control the music industry. Also a wholesome family story.





	Tupain: The Child of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> ***BIG DISCLAIMER***  
> I don't own any of these celebrities, this is fiction, this is a joke, none of this is serious. The only thing I'm serious about it Tupain and 2T.
> 
> This came from a weird conversation about 2Pac and T-Pain having a kid together, shit went off the handle as the conversation continued, this is the result of the conversation.
> 
> I'd like to thank my friends for inspiring this and adding in some of the special details of this fic.

My name is Tupain and this is my story. My fathers as you should know, are the worlds greatest rappers 2Pac and Tpain, sadly one of them was too great of a rapper. My father, formally known of 2Pac was slaughtered for his sick rhymes, he spit the wild truth and society couldn’t even handle it. Since then the rapping world has change and my living father, Tpain, only had me left as proof of him and 2Pac’s love. I transcended time and the dimensional fabric to be birthed from Tpain, ever since then it’s mainly been us. 

I wake up every morning, in our bitchin’ mansion, bed full of money and bottles of empty mountain dew code Pain; it's a new flavor that got released from dad’s sick new sponsorship. I do my normal routine, as every nineteen year old boy would, take a fresh money shower, wear my Gucci two piece suit and shred down the staircase railing on my exclusive Tony Hawk board. Only three were made in the world, Tony Hawk is like my uncle from another brother, he’s also our neighbor. 

Popping into the kitchen for a sick breakfast, I bump into my pops, Tpain himself, already dressed in a navy blue suit to make all the bitches wet. 

“Hey pops,” I say, bumping elbows with him, “you gonna be able to make it to my skateboard rehearsal?” 

Tpain, ever the best maternal figure in the world, hooks his arm around my shoulders in a headlock, right in front of the cute maid I’ve been macking on for weeks. Her name is Stella, a forbidden love for the family tradition of only being able to associate with those of the letter T. Tpain rubs a noogie into my noggin, ruining my sick hairdo that took all morning to brush out after my money shower.

“Nah little dude I can’t, have to go down to the record label for legal stuff, you know the bizz’,” Tpain says, jostling me around. Stella laughs, now I have no chance of asking her out to the Oscar prom, sponsored by Tony Hawk. Although it would of been scandalous anyways because the Oscars starts with and O and not a T, but the Tony’s was last month, and man were the bitches all over me at that event.

Tpain finally releases me, I’m hella going to die of embarrassment, “but pops, this is gonna be sick nasty! I’ve been practicing my shreds for weeks!”

Tpain places a hand on my shoulder and looks down at me with his soulful eyes that can see through time and space, “I know son, but if I don’t save our record label then your father, rest his crazy ass soul, would of died in vain, I love you son.”

“Aww shucks pops, don’t bring up the guilt card yo! Thats mad not cool bro,” you whine, scuffing your Louis Vuitton shoes on the marbles floor.

“Hey,” Tpain gives you a stern look, “Tupain Flo’Rida Nicholas Tallahassee the Third! You do not disrespect your sick as hell father, god rest his soul, in this household! Now I’m late for my ten o’clock pre manny petti with Three Days Grace, we’ll discuss your uncool attitude later!”

Tpain leaves, this was not the kind of sick nasty morning you wanted to have. Stella is gone now too, nothing is as embarrassing as getting chewed out by your father in front of the chick you like. With your day already ruined you grab your Tony Hawk board and go out to shred some rails.

While in the middle of some sick shreds, your funky two uncles, Tenacious D, show up. They’ve been paired on your rad family tree for millennia; once every century the Pain family adopts two chill as fuck mofos that were formally a band onto your family tree. Tpain hand picked them from the multiverse, you’re only allowed to refer to them as Tenacious D and not Kyle Glass or Jack Black. They also can’t be at family events without the other, its to prevent the universe from splitting into a paradox. But that’s just normal family buisness.

“Hey Tupain, it’s your funky uncles,” says Tenacious, Jack Black.

“We saw you mad shredding form our treehouse, looks like you can use some spotters,” chimes in D, Kyle Glass.

“Thank you my funkalicious uncles, but I don’t need your help,” you said, while giving your uncles the rad as hell handshake you’ve had since your interdimensional birth, “no offense, but y’all are too old to skate.”

“None taken,” says Tenacious, “ by the way have you heard the whacked out news?”

“What whacked out news?”

“Your late father 2Pac has risen from the dead!” shouts D.

“WHAAAAAAT!?” 

“Didn’t your father Tpain tell you? It’s all over the news!”

Tenacious throws a tabloid magazine into your face, but you caught it last second, the natural suave way a 2Pac and Tpain child could. Right on the cover was your late father 2Pac himself! Not only that, but so was your dad Tpain! They were holding hands outside of your dads record label! Why would your honest father, Tpain, hide this from you?

“This is whack dog!” you exclaim, shoving the tabloid into your shirt, “yo Tenacious unc’s I’m gonna bounce, I need answers dawg!”

With a flick of the lapels on your Gucci suit and a kick of your board, your exclusive and rare Tony Hawk board shifts into a hoverboard. Your Tenacious D uncles salute you as you take off on your board. You land down outside of your pop’s record label, the paparazzi were flying around like buzzards. The man who had it all, Taio Cruz, saves your youthful ass from the stunning sensation of the cameras, shielding you with a sick pair of aviators and rushes you inside.

“Taio Cruz! The man who had it all! Thanks so much man!” you fist bump the old legend while you two walk on the plush carpet inside Pain record label.

“No prob young dude, by the way, your sick ass parents left yo dog here man,” just as Taio Cruz uttered these words your family dog, 2T rushes in and pounces on you. 

2T was not just any dog, he was family, 2T was raised by 2Pac when shit was real and was integral to 2Pac’s journey of learning how to love again. He was also the ring bearer for your father’s interdimensional wedding, crossing through time and space to the event wearing the rings on his collar. The videotape from the wedding was ruined, but the photos looked fantastic.

Holding the giant Bernese mountain dog in your arms, you turn to Taio Cruz, “thanks man, by the way, where did my pop’s go? I gotta catch up with them so I can finally meet my long dead father, you know how it is.”

“Yo man their at a press conference in the back room dog, go take a look.”

With that fresh info in mind, you set down 2T and head to the back of the building where press conference’s were held. It was mad packed inside, the paparazzi were made dense in this bitch. That’s when you saw your father's 2Pac and Tpain, up on the stand and for the first time in your life, you heard your father 2Pac’s voice.

“Hey dawgs I’m back, now I know there’s a lot of questions, but first imma spit some new sick truths on behalf of me and my husband, Tpain here,” 2Pac spoke into the mic, “first off, on my wicked return from the dead I will be restarting my mad music career again with cool beats about fuckin’ bitches and slaying posers. Secondly, me and my husband, Tpain will be filing for divorce and thirdly we will both be giving Pain Records full custody to our homegirl, Taylor Swift!”

Then, the wicked bitch, Taylor Swift herself, appears on stage, repping a mad diamond made dress, she moves towards the mic, but before she could get the drop, I, Tupain, slam up on stage stealing the microphone.

“Yo this don’t make no sense!” you exclaimed into the mic, looking at 2Pac, Tpain and Taylor swift. 

“My father would never hand over the family company to anyone outside our multidimensional family tree and I KNOW that my father’s love was deeper than the fabric of space and time for them to ever get a divorce! Also from what I know of my father 2Pac is that he would never use improper sentences or even think about conforming to music norms that are expected of him! Y’all are imposters!”

Just then a rip in the fabric of space time was made and your real father, Tpain jumps out and throws a smoke bomb down, he grabs you by the shoulders.

“Son we have to go! We can’t risk Taylor Swift getting a hold of your genes!” 

Tpain shoves you and 2T into the rip, you go swirling out of control for an hour before a new rip opens up and drops you and 2T onto the boardwalk, right next to T-Wayne, a man well known for his sick beats and struggle with his own homosexuality.

“I can see you learned the wicked truth,” said T-Wayne, he picks you up and sets you down on the back of 2T, riding him like a majestic stallion that he is. T-Wayne guides you down the boardwalk, you can see the shift in the space time continuum all around you.

“Brother that was whack,” you said, shaking with the mad sick energy of the space time affecting your physical form, “what is even going on dawg?”

“It’s what has been going on for centuries and millennia, Taylor Swift has been mad cloning every pro rapper and hip hop artist, she’s been trying to control our funky beats for centuries,” T-Wayne explains with wisdom beyond your years.

“There is only a select few of us left Tupain, if you want to save your father you’re going to have to show up Taylor Swift the only way that can defeat her.”

“But T-wayne! I have my skateboard rehearsal!” you exclaim, checking the time.

“Shit dude you’re right! Go make Tony Hawk proud!” T-Wayne awkwardly gives you and encouraging pat on the ass and 2T takes off.

2T travels across the city in a flash of light, dropping you off at the WWE stadium that Tony Hawk rented out for your mad rehearsal. Walking down the red carpet you spot Stella, all done up in Louis Vuitton and Channel, looking damn fine. You slide up to her, giving her the best award winning smile and the soulful eyes you inherited from Tpain.

“Hey Stella, you wanna get down with me across this dope ass platinum red carpet? I’d sure be honored if you say yes,” you say, your voice not even cracking this time!

“Sure thing Tupain, just don’t trip on yourself dawg,” she said, sliding an arm around your own. You give a fistbump to one of the paparazzi and 2T gives you a low-five.

Inside the stadium Tony Hawk awaits you on the outskirts of the ring, a sick rink was installed all around the stadium for your rehearsal. Up in the actual rink was Taylor Swift herself, wearing a pair of diamond boxing gloves and a diamond skateboard and above her hung a cage with your dad Tpain inside.

“Tony what the fuck?” you said, as Taylor Swift makes hand motions in the ring to try to psych you out.

Tony puts a hand on your shoulder, “Tupain, the only way you can win your rehearsal and your father back is by outskating Taylor Swift.”

You nod, “I understand man,” you and Tony Hawk knock boards as you ascend up into the ring.

“I’m not gonna let you take over the honorable rap and hip hop music industry! You can’t get away with this Taylor!” you shout at her from across the ring, setting your board down and taking out your late father 2Pac’s bandana and tying it around your head.

“You wont win kid! If you surrender you can live happily with the family you always wanted!” Taylor shouts back and the clones of your fathers rise up from behind her.

“2Pain and Tpac are missing a son and you can finally have a full and happy life with both your fathers! Isn’t that what you want?”

You shake your head, “no Taylor, that’s not what I want, what I want is to win my skateboard rehearsal!” 

“It’s your funeral then!” Taylor Swift says before kicking her skateboard up and races up to the rink, you chase after her.

You and Taylor shred on the rink, the crowd goes wild, but no matter how hard you shred Taylor was somehow better! You do a sick backflip on your board, but not even that was giving you high enough points to catch up to the bitch. Then your father, Tpain’s voice echos inside your head like it does in great times of distress.

“ _ Tupain, my son, you know how to beat her _ ,” he speaks inside your head like the whispers of sick prophecy that all great rappers hear before dropping the hottest album.

“ _ There is a reason we never let you rap, now is your time! _ ” 

“ _ But pops! _ ” you echo back, “ _ you said that any child of two transcendent rap stars would cause a rip in the space time continuum if we ever spit sick fires _ !” 

“ _ Son, it is your time, look deep inside and let it out, I love you. _ ”

Skating up to the ridge of the rink, you feel the power build up inside of you, the moment you open your mouth to spit some sick lyrics a godly rupture of the fabric of space and time rips so hard that it’s just you and the materials of the world. You skate your heart out, doing nosedives, sick ollies and kickflip galores. The wild planes of existence and ripples of the multi dimensional thread quivers under your wheels, on a microscopic scale your rad rebuttal of rhymes shake the core atoms of Taylor’s diamond skateboard and boxing gloves, shattering them to the winds of time. You touch the edge of the rink and watch as it shatters like glass under your pressure, blood is dripping from Taylor’s nose and as it falls the sound of it hitting the abyss is a symphony of cheers from the crowd. Once you are done shredding and rapping, the world is reset, clean, refreshed, a new birth.

Taylor Swift falls to her knees, your father clones carry her away into the darkness, Tpain’s cage is lowered to the ground. 2T breaks the cage open and you reunite with your father, grasping him into a tight sick hug. Tony Hawk lifts your hand above your head, you did it, you won your Skateboard Rehearsal. 

My name is Tupain, my girlfriend is Stella, my fathers are Tpain and 2Pac, although my father 2Pac is dead, I would never let anyone disrespect the honorable art of rap and hip hop.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment, but keep in mind that I wrote this as a joke and not at all trying to attack anyone who likes any of the artists mention in the fic; I genuinely love rap and hip hop and this was meant to be written like one of those old cheesy and whacky Disney sci fi movies.
> 
> -Jasper


End file.
